Blinded By The Light
by Rachel D
Summary: Sam leaps into a hypnotherapist in September of '76, and must stop his family from getting killed after his daughter witnesses her best friend's murder. COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

_**BLINDED BY THE LIGHT**_

A/N: Another of Sam's many adventures, and coincidentally, the leap date happens to be my birth date. I know what you're probably going to say: "I shouldn't be bragging about my age", right? Well, if you were born with a potentially life-threatening condition, such as hydrocephalus—as I was—and you survive to adulthood, wouldn't you brag, too?

 **CHAPTER 1**

 _"Theorizing that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett led an elite group of scientists into the desert to develop a top-secret project known as 'Quantum Leap'. Pressured to prove his theories or lose funding, Dr. Beckett prematurely stepped into the Project Accelerator, and vanished. He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, suffering from partial amnesia, and facing a mirror image that was not his own. Fortunately, con-tact with his own time was made through brainwave transmissions with Al, the Project Observer, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Dr. Beckett could see and hear. Trapped in the past, Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap would be the leap home..."_

 **September 3, 1976**

 _God, I am so glad that's over with,_ Sam thought as the blue light surrounded him. He'd just gotten through with being an intern at a Toledo hospital during the Kennedy administration, and not only did he help a little boy overcome his fear of needles, but he also spent the entire time trying to convince a sex-starved nurse that he wasn't the one for her. Luckily for Sam, he wasn't the one she was supposed to end up with, and the last he'd heard before he leaped was that she'd met an orthopedic surgeon who was starting there. Not only was he closer to her age, but he was also an old friend of hers.

When the blue haze faded, Sam found himself sitting at a desk. Beside his right hand were a gold pocketwatch and a buzzing intercom. "Yes?" he answered, pressing the intercom button.

"Sherman, your next client is outside," a bored-sounding woman's staticky voice blared. And she also had a deep, guttural Philadelphia accent.

Sam happened to glance in the mirror on the wall beside his desk. The reflection was that of a middle-aged black man with graying hair on the sides and none on top, gold-rimmed glasses, a bushy beard, and wearing a white dress shirt with no tie, brown slacks, socks, and loafers. "Oh, boy," he said. "I don't suppose the Hair Club for Men exists yet, does it, Ziggy?"

"Sherman?" the woman's voice called again. And let it be known that the intercom had clearly seen better days.

"Tell them I'll be right there," Sam said as he looked around the office for some clue of who he'd leaped into.

"All right. Take as long as you need."

Before Sam could do anything, he heard the portal door opening and Al stepped out, wearing a dark blue checkered shirt and jeans, along with a black porkpie hat. "Al!" Sam exclaimed. "What the hell's going on here?"

"Well, hello to you, too," Al answered. Then, looking around the office, he said, "Hypnotist, huh? You know, my second wife and I saw a stage hypnotist in Tijuana once. He tried to hypnotize her into thinking she was Eva Peron. Not only did it not work, but when we got home from the show, she tried to hit me with the waffle iron. Or was it the percolator?"

"Al..."

"No, she threw the percolator at me when I made fun of her psoriasis."

 _"Al..."_ Sam repeated impatiently. That was so typical of Al. Every time he showed up to fill Sam in on his mission, or saw who he'd leaped into, he always made some lame joke. The only exceptions were when Sam leaped into a gorgeous woman, in which case, Al would be smitten the whole time.

"Okay, now that we have that out of the way, let's get down to it," Al continued, punching a few buttons on the handlink. "According to this, you are Dr. Sherman Ryland, mid-forties, and you have a hypnotherapy practice in Latrobe, Pennsylvania. It's September 3, 1976, and according to Ziggy's history databanks, the _Viking II_ is landing on Mars today."

"Right," Sam said as he got one of the hypnotherapy books off the shelf and started to look at it. "What does Ziggy say I have to do?"

"Let's see," Al said as he pushed some more buttons. "Uh-oh. You're not going to like this, Sam. Sometime tonight, your oldest daughter's best friend gets shot, and your daughter is the only witness, but is too scared to talk."

"It's another one of those missions, right?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Tell me more about Sherman."

"Okay, let's see," Al said, pushing a few buttons on the handlink and occasionally shaking or hitting it. "Your wife's name is Anna, and she teaches second grade at Latrobe Elementary School. You also have three daughters named Sherri, Emily, and Janie. Sherri's a freshman at St. Vincent College, and the other two attend Greater Latrobe Senior High School, where Emily's a junior and Janie's a freshman. If Ziggy comes up with any-thing else, I'll let you know."

"Thanks,' Sam said as Al punched the button that controlled the portal door and walked back out as Sam opened the office door. "Okay, send the next person in now."

After Sam had seen the last client of the day—a young man who believed that in a previous life, he was a distant relative of Henry David Thoreau—Al met him as he was coming out of the office building. "Come on, I'll show you where Sherman lives," he said as they got in the car. "It's about a mile from here."

Sam nodded as he started the ignition. As soon as they pulled out onto the street, they stopped at a red light, and Al happened to glance in the driver's seat of the car beside them, then fed some information into the handlink. "Hey, Sam, you'll never believe who's in the car next to you," he said.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Fred Rogers, children's show host," Al said. "Born in Latrobe, and was an only child until his sister was born when he was eleven. He must be on his way to visit her."

Sam nodded as the light changed. Within a matter of minutes, they turned a corner and arrived at a two-story white stucco house with black trim on the shutters. "Very nice," Sam commented as they got out of the car.

"I'll say," Al agreed. "Ziggy says Sherman always had a good eye for these sort of things. Speaking of which, he's in the waiting room right now, so I should get going. I'll be back in a flash."

"Thanks," Sam said. Al nodded, pressed the button on the side of the handlink, and vanished.

"Hi, honey," Anna said as Sam came into the house. She was a slightly frumpy black woman, and was wearing a turquoise pantsuit and had a graying Afro, bamboo earrings, and a smile that would put Olivia Cole to shame. "How was work today?"

"Uh—well, you know, it was work," Sam answered as he took off his jacket and hung it on one of the pegs by the door. "How about you?"

"Well, today, I started teaching cursive writing to the second-graders."

"That's good," Sam answered.

"Just relax, and dinner will be ready soon."

"All right," Sam said as he went upstairs to the bedroom. He sat on the bed and started taking his shoes off. Just then, an out-of-breath Al reappeared with an urgent, frantic look on his face.

"What now?" Sam asked.

"I forgot to tell you something."

Upon hearing that, Sam had that all-too-familiar feeling that this wasn't good news. "What's wrong?"

"According to Ziggy, Sherri also gets killed tonight."

"Oh, my God," Sam moaned in horror as he buried his face in his hands. "How? When?"

"Ziggy doesn't know yet, but she does know that you have to stop it from happening."

"Well, I'm not going to let that happen, because she's not leaving the house."

"Okay," Al said as he followed Sam back down to the living room.

 _Jesus, what the hell is it with Ziggy and people getting killed?_ Sam wondered as he sat down on the couch.

"I'll see if I can get any more information out of Sherman, and get back to you," Al said.

"How is Sherman doing, by the way?" Sam asked.

"Well, he almost fainted when he saw your image in the mirror," Al answered. "But I think he's okay now. Verbeena's also been talking to him. Speaking of which, I'd better get back there." And with that, he pushed the same button on the handlink, and was gone.

Sam sighed as he put the book away and went to the kitchen just as Anna and the girls were taking their places at the table.

"Sherman, who were you just talking to?" Anna asked as she passed Sam the plate of corn on the cob.

"Nobody," Sam answered as he took an ear of corn and put the plate back in the center of the table. All the while, he was silently kicking himself for not lowering his voice enough so Anna wouldn't hear him. That was always one of his biggest pet peeves on these leaps.

"Okay," Anna shrugged. Apparently, she knew that Sam had a long day, so she decided to just let it go.

After everyone had been served, Sherri said, "Dad, there's a party at the welcome center at the college tonight. Can I go?"

"Well..." Sam said, momentarily forgetting what he'd told Al the plan was, "all right. But be careful. Remember, it's a holiday weekend, and there's a lot of crazy people out there."

"Thanks, Dad!" Sherri exclaimed. She got up from the table to put her dishes in the sink, then grabbed her keys.

"No problem," Sam smiled as Sherri grabbed her 76ers jacket from the closet.

"And don't stay out too late," Anna added.

"I won't," Sherri said, and hurried out the door as Emily and Janie went to their rooms to do their homework, Anna loaded the dishwasher, and Sam went to the study.

He was looking over the books on the shelves when Al appeared. "What'd you find out?" Sam asked.

"I was just talking to Sherman," Al answered, "and according to him, Sherri watches her best friend get shot at 8:45 tonight, just as they're leaving Rinker's Diner, which is just downtown. Then, seven minutes after that, Sherri also gets shot, and Sherman is the only witness."

"So, all I have to do is be outside Rinker's by 8:45?" Sam asked, looking at the clock. "It's only 6:45 now."

"That's two hours away," Al said. "It only takes ten minutes by car to get there."

"So, if I were to leave by 8:30, I could still prevent Sherri's murder?"

"That's right."

"All right," Sam said. "I'll be there. And Al, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, buddy."

"Follow her until I get there. Don't let her out of your sight for a second."

Al nodded. "Gooshie, center me on Sherri!" he called. And for the third time since Sam's arrival, Al was gone.

About an hour later, Sam put on his shoes and left the study. "Anna, I'm worried about Sherri," he said, putting on his jacket. "I'm going out to check on her. I won't be long."

"Is everything okay?"

Upon hearing Anna's question, Sam had to think fast. He didn't want her to think he was being overprotective (after all, Sherri is in college), or give her any indication that he knew something was wrong. But at the same time, he couldn't tell her the real reason that he had to go.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Sam lied. "It's, uh—it's just a parental intuition, you know?"

"Are you sure?" Anna asked uneasily. Clearly, she thought Sam was worrying too much about something that might not even happen. "It's not that I don't trust your judgment—or Sherri's, for that matter—but I know how you get when you're worried."

Sam's eye darted toward the clock on the wall. It was almost 8:25, which meant he only had five minutes to get going. "Look, Anna, I don't have time to explain," he said, fighting the panic in his voice. "I just have a gut-feeling that Sherri needs me, and I have to get out of here _right now."_

"Well—okay, Sherman," Anna finally said. She too was starting to get worried, but she also knew there was no time to argue. "Be careful."

As Sam went out the door, he thought, _Please, Sherri, be all right._

Sam arrived downtown about ten minutes later, and had just gotten out of the car when Al appeared next to him. "Where is she?" Sam asked.

"She's in the diner across the street with some of her friends."

"She's not drinking, is she?" Sam asked. "I don't think she's old enough for that."

"No, no. They're just having burgers and fries."

"Okay, good."

That's when Sherri came out of the restaurant, and Sam waved to her. "I don't think she sees me," he said.

Just then, two shots rang out. The girl Sherri was with—a girl with long brown hair in a braid and wearing an orange shirt and sweater, blue bell-bottoms, and white socks with Keds—fell to the ground. "Okay, go!" Al whispered before pressing the side button on the handlink.

"MARIAH!" Sherri screamed as the other girl fell.

Sam darted across the street, just missing a passing blue VW. The first thing he saw was Sherri holding her friend in her arms, rocking back and forth, and screaming in hysterics, "Somebody help us!"

"Sherri!" Sam called.

"Dad! What are you doing here?" Sherri exclaimed as Al appeared beside her.

"Parental instinct," Sam answered, kneeling beside the girls. "Are you okay?"

"Mariah's dead," Sherri sobbed as Sam took off his jacket and put it under Mariah's head.

"Mariah?" Sam asked.

"Mariah Robinson, eighteen years old," Al said as he pressed a few buttons on the handlink. "Sherri's best friend since second grade when her family moved from Syracuse, and sits right in front of her in their psychology class at the college. Shot at 8:45 p.m. on September 3, 1976, pronounced DOA at 8:52."

Mariah opened her eyes. "Sherri? Dr. Ryland?" she managed to gasp out.

"Shh, it's okay," Sam said. "Do either of you have something in your purse? I need something besides my hand to cover the wound."

"I can ask the manager for some towels," a voice said. Sam looked up to see a young blond guy who looked about twenty, and was wearing a black visor, jeans, white T-shirt, and an apron. Sam guessed he was an employee. "And I'll have him call an ambulance, too."

"Thanks," Sam said as the employee ran back inside. Then, focusing his attention on Mariah, he asked, "Mariah, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Sherri's dad," she answered, gasping for breath and grimacing in pain.

"Try not to talk," Sam said gently as the employee returned with some towels. Sam placed them on Mariah's stomach, where she'd been hit. "Now, Sherri, put some pressure on it."

Sherri did as she was told, all the while sobbing hysterically. Sam put his hand on her shoulder, in a futile attempt to calm her down.

A few minutes later, an ambulance pulled up, and two paramedics got out. "This is my daughter's best friend," Sam told them as they loaded Mariah onto the stretcher.

"Would you like to come to the hospital with us?" one of them asked Sherri.

Sherri nodded, all the while convulsing with sobs, as one of the paramedics led her to the back of the ambulance and helped her inside. "I'll call Mariah's parents and follow you in the car," Sam offered before the driver shut the doors.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Sam checked in with the receptionist before making two calls on the pay phone in the lobby while he waited for word on the girls: first to Mariah's parents (he got a busy signal), then to Anna. A few minutes later, a doctor came out. She had long black hair in ringlets, and was wearing a white blouse with an Italian flag pin on the left lapel and a long dark skirt with her lab coat. "Mr. Ryland?" she asked.

Sam stood up. "Yes?" he answered.

"Hi, I'm Dr. DiBenedetto. Sherri's fine."

"Oh, thank God."

"She's still pretty shook up, but we think she's okay to release to you. Unfortunately, Mariah didn't make it. DOA."

"Did you call the Robinsons?" Sam asked.

"The nurse is doing that now."

"Good."

Al popped in just in time to hear the whole conversation. "Will Sherri be okay?" Sam asked as he sat back down.

"It's hard to say. She's just been through a tremendous shock, so she won't be okay for awhile. In time, though, she'll come around, but in reality, something like this will have a profound effect on her. As for how long—well, that's an even harder question to answer."

"Good, Sam, you've changed history," Al said as he briefly glanced down at the handlink. "Now, Sherri does survive, but has a bad case of survivor's guilt for the rest of her life."

"Where is my daughter?" Sam asked.

"She's back in the exam room," the doctor answered. "I'll take you to her."

"And if my wife and other daughters happen to get here, could you have the nurse bring them back?" Sam asked.

"Absolutely. Right this way."

When they arrived at Sherri's exam cubicle, Sam found her lying on her left side on the bed in a fetal positing, and facing the wall. She was making a strange noise that soun-ded like a cross between crying, hyperventilating, and clearing her throat. You didn't need a PhD to know that she was a mess.

Sam stood beside the bed and laid a hand on Sherri's shoulder. "Sherri?" he asked.

Sherri jumped up with a gasp, then turned around to see Sam. "Dad!" she wailed as she grabbed him around the neck, and buried her face into his chest. "I'm still so scared."

"I know," Sam said as he gently rubbed her back. "It's all right, you're safe now. I do have one question, though: do you know who shot Mariah, or saw who did it?"

"I think so," Sherri sniffled.

"Okay, it's okay," Sam said. "Sh-sh-shh...I'd like to make a deal with you. If I take you home tonight, could I use hypnosis on you tomorrow morning? Would you be willing to tell me what you know?"

Sherri mumbled an answer as she wiped her eyes. Sam handed her a tissue from his pocket. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you," he said.

"Yes," Sherri answered as he handed her the box of tissues from the counter. She grabbed a couple, dabbed at her eyes with one, and with the second, held it in front of her eye as she laid down on the bed and continued sobbing.

Just then, Al, who happened to be standing off to the side, rushed over. "Sam, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"I have to," Sam answered as he started rubbing Sherri's arm and petting her hair to calm her down. "How else can I find out anything? And yes, I got her consent, so it shouldn't be illegal."

"Well, Ziggy says there's a 72% chance that if Sherri files a police report, the shooter could not only come back and finish the job, but also go after the rest of the family."

That's when Sherri propped herself up on her elbows, turned her head, and noticed Al. "Who are you?" she gasped as she shrank back in fear.

"My name's Al, I'm a good friend," he answered. Then, to Sam, he said, "Terrific. Not only can animals, the mentally absent, and really little kids see me, but so can young girls under extreme emotional stress."

"You were saying?" Sam prompted.

"If Sherri files a police report, the rest of the family could die, too."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Al shook his head. "I wish I was."

A few minutes later, Sherri had calmed down. Sam held her hand and stroked her hair. "Um, Al, could you give us a minute?" he whispered.

"Say no more," Al answered. "I'll go talk to Sherman some more, and meet you back at the house."

"Thanks."

Another minute or so later, Anna, Emily, and Janie had joined them in the cubicle. "Sherri!" Anna shrieked as she flung her arms around the frightened girl. The others did the same, and they were all crying their hearts out. "Are you all right, baby?"

Sherri nodded as she wiped her eyes with the second tissue.

"Oh, praise Jesus," Anna whispered, shaking like a leaf. "When your father called, I thought you'd been hurt."

"Try not to upset her," Sam advised. "I just got her to calm down. In fact, tomorrow morning, I'm going to use hypnosis on her to get her to tell me what she knows, so I can tell the police. And yes, I got her consent."

"Are you sure?" Anna asked. "Won't you lose your license?"

"It's a chance I have to take," Sam answered.

"Well," Anna reluctantly decided, "I can't say I agree with you, Sherman, but I understand."

Just then, Dr. DiBenedetto entered the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Ryland?" she said as Sherri sat up. "Sherri's doing fine now. I want to do a brief exam before she leaves."

"Okay," Sam agreed. "We'll be right outside."

A few minutes later, Sherri joined them, and the family headed out to their cars. Sherri got in Sam's car with him, and Anna took the other girls in her car.

As Sam drove home, with Sherri in the front seat and staring into space, he felt like the oldest person on the planet.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

When they got home, Sherri went to her room to get ready for bed. A few minutes later, Sam poked his head into the room.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked as he sat on the bed. Unfortunately, his only answer was Sherri's sobs.

"It's okay, baby," Sam said, reaching over and touching her shoulder. "You'll feel better in the morning when we do our hypnosis session, and you tell me what you know."

Sherri nodded as she sat up. "Come here," Sam whispered as he wrapped her in a hug, and she cried herself to sleep in his arms.

 _She's been through a lot,_ Sam thought as he helped her lie back down and stroked her hair. _Come to think of it, we all have._

As Sam sat by Sherri's bedside, a million thoughts went through his head: what his mission was, what he'd seen, what Sherri had been through, and the fact that whoever was responsible was still out there.

It was a very long night indeed.

Anna had just finished putting the last of the eggs on the plates when Sam came downstairs the next morning. "'Morning, Anna," he yawned as he got a mug out of the dishwasher.

"Sherman," Anna answered. "Sleep well?"

"Oh, about as well as I could," Sam answered, pouring himself some tea and sitting down at the table. "How's Sherri?"

"Still a little shaken up, but I was able to talk her into having some breakfast."

"I'll say. Boy, if I saw what she did last night, I wouldn't be able to eat anything, either."

The girls were entering the kitchen just then. Emily and Janie held Sherri by the arms as they helped her to the table. "Look, I appreciate your being here, but I can sit down on my own," Sherri told her sisters as patiently as she could.

"Sherri, you just saw your best friend get shot last night," Janie reminded her as she poured her some apple juice. "My health teacher says that people who have been through something like that shouldn't be alone for too long."

"Oh, he does, does he?" Sherri asked, taking a sip of juice.

"Sherri didn't mean it, Janie," Emily reassured her sister. "She's not mad at you, she's mad at the shooter."

"Well, thank you, Dr. Brothers," Sherri retorted sarcastically.

"All right, that's enough," Anna interjected as Emily and Janie sat at the table. "Let's all just sit down and have some breakfast. Especially you, Sherri. You'll feel better once you eat something."

Even though Sherri didn't want to admit it, she was hungry. Besides, Anna had made sure that her eggs were sunny-side up, which is how she liked them—or, as her late Grandma Ryland always called them, "dunking eggs". And let's not forget the raisin toast with apple butter.

"Sherri, after breakfast, I'd like to do our session in your room, if that's okay," Sam said, taking a sip of tea and helping himself to another piece of bacon.

"Okay, Dad," Sherri agreed.

"Before I forget, is it okay if I touch your arm or hand during the session?"

"Sure, Dad. You know that's always okay."

"Okay, I was just checking. After all, it's part of my job."

"I understand."

About ten minutes later, Sam and Sherri were in her room, and Sherri laid down on her bed. Sam turned her desk chair around and sat down as Al appeared through the portal. "Okay, one thing I want you to remember is that I'm here, and no one can hurt you. Now," he said in a soft, soothing voice, "just close your eyes, and take some slow, deep breaths, and with each breath, you will become more and more relaxed. What I'm going to do next is count backwards from ten, and with each count, you will go deeper and deep-er into hypnosis."

"Mm-hm," Sherri said somewhat sleepily as she did so. "Is your friend here?"

"Who, Al?"

"Yeah."

 _"Sono qui tesoro,"_ Al softly reassured her.

"Stay with me," Sherri murmured.

"I will."

"Okay, let's begin. Ten...nine...becoming more and more relaxed...eight...seven...six ...let your hands fall to your sides...five...four...three...two...almost all the way down...one ...zero. All right, very good."

As Sam spoke, he pulled a little notepad and pen out of his shirt pocket, then glanced up at Al, who was standing off to the side with the handlink poised to take the information. The last time Sam had used hypnosis on someone—Alia, the evil leaper—Al had gotten way too much into it. Sam was glad to see that it wouldn't happen this time. "Do you think we'll find out anything?" Al asked.

"I hope so," Sam whispered back as he reached for Sherri's wrist. "Good. Now, put yourself outside the diner last night, and tell me what you see."

"Outside the diner?" Sherri sleepily repeated.

"Yes," Sam answered as he uncapped his pen. "Okay, you and Mariah are leaving the diner. What do you see?"

"The car."

"What's it look like?"

"It's a blue Ford Pinto," Sherri continued. "Mariah's parents had gotten it for her high school graduation. We were on our way over there when we heard..."

"What?" Sam asked gently, taking her hand.

"We heard...two gunshots..." Sherri continued, and Sam rubbed her knuckles as she tried to keep herself from falling apart.

"It's okay," Sam reassured her as he rubbed her arm. "Remember, I'm right here. What happened then?"

"Mariah was hit."

"What kind of car were the shots coming from?"

"A red Chrysler."

"Did you see the driver?"

"I—I think so. He was wearing a, uh—green T-shirt and black leather jacket."

"Did you know him?"

"Mariah's boyfriend. Eddie Palmer, I think. Maybe it was somebody who looked like him. It was too dark to tell."

As Sherri was talking, Sam was writing and Al was feeding the information into the handlink. "Eddie Palmer, nineteen, gets arrested on the afternoon of September 4, 1976, for the murder of Mariah Robinson," he reported. "He pleads guilty at his trial on September 13, and is sent to death row, where he dies in the electric chair in the early morning hours of September 1, 1980."

"Okay," Sam said as he finished writing and resumed his soft, soothing voice. "Thank you for the information. Now, I'm going to count to five and snap my fingers, and by the time I do, you will be fully awake, and will remember everything you told me."

"Okay."

"Okay. One, starting to wake up...two...three, more and more awake...four, your eyes are opening...and five, wide awake." With that, Sam snapped his fingers as Sherri opened her eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Well, a little better, I guess," Sherri answered as she sat up. "So, what do we do now?"

"The next step is to take everything you told me to the police," Sam answered as he put the notepad and pen back in his pocket. "And they'll take it from there."

That's when Al frantically started making motions. Right away, Sam knew that there was a big problem, or there was about to be one. It's a wonder Al was able to get his attention without dropping the handlink.

"I'll be right back," Sam said as Al motioned for him to step out into the hall. When he did, Sam said through clenched teeth, "Al, what the hell's wrong with you?"

"We've got big trouble, Sam."

"I've figured that part out. What I'm still unclear about is why you were waving and jumping around like a baboon."

"According to Sherman's hometown newspaper, tomorrow's headline reads, 'Family of Murder Witness Found Dead'."

 _"What!"_ Sam gasped. "But—but how could this be when Eddie goes to jail tonight?"

"It could still happen," Al answered. "One of his friends, or someone he knows, could finish what he started."

"Oh, boy," Sam muttered.

"'Oh, boy' is right. And the story says it looks like a rerun of the Tate/LaBianca mur-ders, too."

"Dammit!" Sam groaned. As if protecting that secretary from her sex maniac of a boss wasn't bad enough. "First, this poor girl watches her best friend get shot, now she and her whole family get murdered tonight."

"In exactly fourteen hours and thirty-five seconds...now thirty-three..."

"Yeah, I get the picture!" Sam exclaimed, trying his hardest to keep his voice down so Sherri wouldn't hear him. "Al, I've got to get them out of here right now! Is there some-place that Sherman and his family went so they could get away from it all? You know, like a cabin or something?"

"Let's see here," Al said as he pressed a few buttons on the handlink, which gave a loud, affirmative squeak. "Yes! There's a cabin in Deer Lakes Park that Sherman and his parents and sister spent their summer vacations when he was growing up. In fact, his father left it to him his will."

"Great. We'll hunker down there for a few days, or however long it takes to catch this bastard."

"Good idea. You tell the others, and I'll tell the real Sherman."

After Al disappeared, Sam hurried back to Sherri's room. "Sherri," he said. "I need you to get your mom and sisters and meet me in the living room."

"Okay," Sherri agreed as she pulled on her shoes and ran off.

A few minutes later, everyone had gathered in the living room. Sam turned to face them. "Now," he began. "I can't tell you where I heard it, but I have this gut-feeling that since Mariah was killed last night, the person who did it will be targeting us next. In fact, it might be later tonight."

There was a gasp from the women, then Janie started to cry. "We're going to die!" she wailed. Sam knelt in front of her, took her by the shoulders, and forced her to look at him.

"No, we're not," he reassured her. "Not if I have anything to say about it. What I need you to do is take ten minutes to pack everything you can in a suitcase and meet your mother and me at the car. We're going to the cabin for the rest of the weekend."

"Okay, Daddy," Janie sniffled. Emily wrapped her sister in a hug and handed her a tissue before they rushed into action.

"And Anna, could you take care of packing our suitcase?" Sam asked.

"Sure," Anna answered, then ran off to join her daughters.

While they were packing, Sam grabbed a cooler from the pantry and filled it with drinks and snacks, then ran to the study to grab a couple of his hypnotherapy books and his briefcase. As he rushed back to the living room, he put the books in his briefcase.

Within minutes, the whole family was packed and ready to go. "Sherman, are you sure this is a good idea?" Anna asked as they pulled out onto the street.

"Yes," Sam answered as he turned the corner. "But if you're still worried, we'll stop by the police station on our way out of town."

A few minutes later, Sam pulled up in front of the police station. "Sherri, come with me; the rest of you wait in the car," he instructed as he unfastened his seatbelt. "And if you see anything suspicious, come inside immediately. It's also best if you lock the doors as soon as Sherri and I get out, and don't unlock them again until you see us coming."

"Okay, Dad," Emily agreed as Sam and Sherri unlocked their doors.

"We won't be gone too long," Sam called over his shoulder as he and Sherri got out of the car. As much as he knew he was doing the right thing, one thought was still gnaw-ing at him: what if the person who shot Mariah found them and finished the job?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This is the last chapter. In case you're wondering about my knowledge of the structure of a hypnosis session, I've had several of them in years past when I was trying to overcome my social anxiety, which I think only helped me very little.

 **CHAPTER 3**

When Sam and Sherri entered the police station, they were greeted by a dark red curly-haired officer with deep brown eyes, a golden tan, and a quarter-inch scar over his left eyebrow. "Good morning, Dr. Ryland," he said. "Can I help you?"

"Sorry, do I know you?" Sam asked.

That's when Al appeared next to him. "I'm Officer Watkins," the officer answered. "You recently did an age-regression on me to help me get over my parents' murder when I was seven."

"The Midnight Marauder," Al reminded him. "You probably don't remember, Sam, but you've been him before."

"How have you been?" Sam asked, after a barely perceptible nod to Al.

"Oh, pretty good," Officer Watkins answered. "Can I help you?"

"Is there an available officer for me and my daughter to talk to?" Sam asked.

"Sure. Right this way."

Within minutes, Sam and Sherri were sitting at a desk across from Sgt. Wilcox, telling him everything that had happened the night before. In spite of all she'd been through, Sherri was doing most of the talking while Sam sat and held her hand. The sergeant would sometimes interrupt with a question, but for the most part, he just sat and listened, occasionally nodding, as he wrote down everything they said.

"Well, Dr. Ryland, it's a good thing you came to us when you did," Sgt. Wilcox said, putting down his pen. "Eddie Palmer has had quite a long history with us. His father walked out on them shortly after he was born, and his mother had several live-in boyfriends until she was killed in a fire when he was six. After that, he was in a couple of foster homes before his aunt took him in, and it's all been downhill from there. He's been in and out of reform schools and juvenile halls since he was eight, dropped out of high school his freshman year, and since then, he's been picked up for assault, public intoxication, B & E, drug dealing, you name it."

Sherri was horrified. "Why would Mariah even think about dating that kind of scum?" she murmured in disbelief.

"Well, Sherri, some people are really good at hiding their true nature from others," Sam explained. "They're not as honest as they should be, and sometimes, what they do can cause someone to get hurt."

At this, Sherri sighed and buried her face into her hands. She wasn't crying yet, but Sam could tell that she was about to start again. He put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder as the sergeant handed her a tissue. "I know, Sherri," Sam said as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "Believe me, you girls did nothing to deserve what happened to you. _Nobody_ deserves to go through something like that."

Still sniffling and burying her head into Sam's shoulder, Sherri nodded as she wiped her eyes. All the while, Sam was bouncing back and forth between trying to comfort her and feeling just the slightest twinge of sympathy for Eddie. Granted, he'd had a rough life growing up, but that still didn't excuse him from what he did.

"We'll file the report right now, and if we find out anything, you'll be the first to know," Sgt. Wilcox said as he finished writing and recapped his pen. "But in the mean-time, do you have a safe place you can go to?"

"There's a cabin in Deer Lakes that my father left me," Sam answered. "We're going there for the weekend, or however long it takes for this to blow over. And in case you're wondering, there are no phones there."

"Good thinking, Doc. In light of recent events, it might not be safe for you to be at your residence right now."

 _Well, duh,_ Sam thought. _I wonder if this guy gets paid extra for stating the obvious?_

"Thanks, sergeant," Sam said as he stood up and they shook hands. Then he and Sherri started out the door.

"And if something happens, we'll send an officer out there," Sgt. Wilcox promised. "Better yet, I can have another of my officers escort you out." Then, turning his chair around, he called, "Hogan, front and center!"

A tall muscular cop with dark brown wavy hair, pale green eyes, and a Tony Orlando-looking moustache approached them. "Yes, sir," he said.

"This is Officer Hogan," Sgt. Wilcox told Sam and Sherri as the three of them shook hands. "He'll go out with you in case Eddie, or someone he knows, shows up."

"Thanks," Sam answered, shaking the sergeant's hand again, before the three of them made their way down the hall.

Just then, Al appeared beside them. "Sam, you'd better take a look at this," he whispered.

"Sure, Al," Sam answered, then turned to Sherri. "I'm going to stop at the men's room before we go. Do you need to?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay, go wait for me in the car," he instructed, putting a hand on Sherri's shoul-der.

"Don't worry about a thing," Hogan said reassuringly. "I'll make sure nothing happens to your family. I'll even wait outside with them."

"Thanks again."

As Sherri followed Hogan to the door (and yes, she thought he was a hunk), Sam and Al hurried to the men's room. "What do you got?" Sam asked as he turned on the faucet to wash his face.

"You'll love this," Al said as he pushed a few buttons on the handlink and gently tapped it. "Not only does Eddie get arrested early this afternoon, but he also ID's his cousin, Jordan Hill, as the shooter," he reported. "Jordan gets arrested the next morning. Since Eddie was the one who was driving the car, he spends the rest of the week in jail, and Jordan is the one who dies in the chair."

"No shit?" Sam asked in surprise.

"No shit. And it's a good thing, too, because Ziggy says that Jordan was always a bad influence on Eddie. In fact, he's a large part of the reason why Eddie's in a lot of trouble right now."

This was the best news that Sam had heard since his arrival. If it weren't for the fact that they were in the men's room, he would've tried to hug Al.

No sooner had Sam and Al come out of the men's room and started down the hall, they saw Hogan coming through the station's front door. With him was Sherri and a young sandy-haired guy about Sam's height, wearing an Eagles jersey, jeans, and dark green Chuck Taylor high-tops. His hands were cuffed behind him, and he was hanging his head. Right away, Sam knew who it was.

"Eddie?" he asked Hogan as they stopped near him.

"Eddie," Al whispered with an affirmative nod.

Hogan nodded. "He came up as soon as your daughter and I stepped outside, and said that he was ready to talk."

"Sherri, Dr. Ryland, I am so sorry," Eddie said, his eyes filling with tears. "I wasn't the one who shot Mariah. It was Jordan."

"Jordan?" Sam asked.

"My cousin," Eddie explained. "He's five years older than me, and he's been in trouble with the law since I could remember. He started with small crimes, like taking kids' lunch money on the playground and starting fights at school. In fact, he'd gotten expelled from five different schools in eight years, then dropped out his freshman year, like I did. In fact, I was getting ready to go back for my GED when this happened. Anyway, as we got older, he got worse and worse. Even my Aunt Patty, his mom, wants nothing to do with him, and she told me herself. But you see, I always knew that he was bad, but this was the first time he's actually killed somebody."

"Why Mariah?" Sherri asked.

"She'd been trying to help me get straightened out," Eddie answered as the tears started falling. "Everybody else just wrote me off, but not her. When Jordan found out, he was so pissed. He told me that if I ever saw Mariah again, and he found out about it, he'd make sure that nobody saw her again. I didn't want to go with him last night, but he said that he'd kill me next if I didn't. And since I'm here talking to you now, he's probably going to do it anyway."

"No, he's not," Sam said as he gently laid a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Eddie, listen to me. Take a deep breath and let it out, now look at me." Eddie did so, then Sam continued, "This is not your fault. I know you didn't want any part of this. We all do. Believe me w hen I tell you that you're doing the right thing by turning yourself in. And Jordan needs to pay for what he did. And can I tell you something else?"

"What?" Eddie asked, his voice breaking.

"If Mariah could come back for just five minutes, she'd forgive you. And I'm sure she knows that you didn't mean for this to happen."

Eddie looked down at the floor and said nothing, just nodded and bit his lip. He was truly ashamed of himself. Sherri, although still upset with him, pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped his eyes, then patted his arm.

"Let's go, Eddie," Hogan said softly as he gave him a gentle push forward and guided him down the hall and through the office door.

Sam looked sympathetically in Eddie's direction as he put an arm across Sherri's shoulders and looked back at them. It was really sad for him to see someone so young being in such a horrible situation, and he knew this would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Eddie was telling the truth, Dad," Sherri said when they were back on the road. Anna was reading the copy of _People_ that she'd bought at the 7-Eleven, Emily was filing her nails, and Janie was fast asleep in the backseat.

"About what?" Sam asked as he sped past a white VW.

"About Mariah trying to help him get back on track," Sherri answered. "Last night, on our way from the party to the diner, she told me about how he used to confide in her about all the trouble that Jordan used to get him into when they were growing up, and she knew that he was a bad influence on Eddie."

"Wow, they must have really loved each other," Sam commented. By now, they were on the outskirts of town, and halfway to Deer Lakes.

Sherri nodded. "I can't even begin to imagine what they must be going through, and I don't even want to think about what Mariah's family is going through, either."

"It'll be a rough road for all of them, but at least they'll take comfort in knowing that they'll get justice for their daughter."

Sherri nodded again as her eyes misted over, for what seemed like the millionth time, as she put her arms around Sam.

The sun was setting when they arrived at the cabin. Normally, they loved the times they spent there, but this time, they were silent. As they got out of the car to bring their luggage inside, there was no excitement, no plans for how they'd spend their time there, nothing.

Just then, Sam noticed Al standing on the front porch, lighting his cigar. "You go on in," Sam told Anna and the girls. "I'll be right there."

"Okay," Anna said softly. "I'll go ahead and unpack, then start dinner. And Sherman? Thanks for everything."

After watching Anna go inside, Sam turned to Al, who was standing there, smoking his cigar, and had a mushy expression on his face. "Don't mind me," he sighed happily.

"Very funny, Al. What's up?"

"Remember when I said that Eddie only spends the rest of the week in jail after what happened?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, according to Ziggy, on Tuesday morning—with Monday being a holiday and all—Sgt. Wilcox is going to have a talk with the judge who's trying the case, and not only do they convince Eddie to testify against his cousin, but he also gets released from jail that following day."

"Really?" Sam whispered ecstatically. "Oh, wow, that's great! But what happens to Eddie when all this blows over?"

"Let's see...It turns out that this has such an impact on him, and he enlists in the Air Force. After receiving an honorable discharge in February of '83, he moves out West and becomes a sheriff's deputy in Tacoma that following summer, and marries a widow with a toddler daughter. As for Sherri, she also becomes a hypnotherapist, and takes over her father's practice when he retires in the fall of '91."

"What about the rest of the family?"

"After Sherman retires, he and Anna move to Miami, where they live until Anna dies in the summer of 2015," Al continued. "Emily becomes a junior high girls' gym teacher in Pittsburgh, and moves into the family home after her parents move to Florida. As for Janie, she goes to medical school and becomes a cardiologist. Oh, and here's the best part, Sam: her name is Dr. Rice, and she's our chief cardiologist at Project Quantum Leap. In addition to that, with Janie living in New Mexico, she decides her father is better off near her, so Sherman moves into a nursing home nearby."

"Wow," was all Sam could say.

"Yeah, I know," Al said.

"That's wonderful news, Al," Sam grinned. "I just wish I could tell them right now."

"I know, but rules are rules. So, what's for dinner?"

"Don't even think about it," Sam laughed.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying, right?" Al shrugged as he took a puff on his cigar.

They both laughed and tried to attempt a high-five, even though Sam knew his hand would go right through Al's. That's when the blue light appeared, and Sam knew he was on his way to right another wrong.

When the light faded, the first thing Sam saw was a bunch of drop-dead gorgeous, buxom, half-dressed girls. The Playboy mansion, you ask? No such luck. He was actually in a locker room—specifically that of the girls who cheered for the L.A. Lakers.

Yes, that's right, folks. He was surrounded by Laker Girls.

He very quickly lowered his head so it wouldn't look so obvious how embarrassing the situation was. And that's when he discovered that he was wearing the shiny, skin-tight gold-and-purple uniforms that made Laker fans everywhere forget that there was an actual game going on.

When he looked into a nearby mirror, he saw a young twenty-something girl with dark blue eyes and long chestnut-brown hair in a ponytail. _Oh, well, at least I'm not pledging another fraternity,_ he thought. He'd been one of those guys before, and what a pain in the ass that was. Not only was he dressed like a fifth-rate superhero that even the Justice League would reject, but it was also when he was reunited with Alia, the evil leaper who Sam reformed with this leap.

Just then, another girl about the same age, only with light brown eyes and short spiky hair with strawberry-blond highlights in it, hurried past. "Hey, hurry up, April!" she called. "Practice starts in five minutes!"

"Oh, boy," Sam groaned to himself. Between this, and seeing Marilyn Monroe go for an early morning _au naturel_ swim, he didn't know which was worse!

 **THE END**


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